


to die, to sleep

by Magnolia822



Series: Ineffably Kinky Husbands (Good Omens Kink Meme Fills) [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is a kinky bastard, Consensual Somnophilia, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, M/M, Role-Playing Game, non-con play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 08:43:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20150824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnolia822/pseuds/Magnolia822
Summary: Aziraphale wakes up with Crowley all the way inside of him.Read the tags.





	to die, to sleep

**Author's Note:**

> This is originally posted as a prompt fill at the [Tadfield Advertiser](https://tadfield-advertiser.dreamwidth.org/517.html?thread=112133#cmt112133). Go on over and leave some prompts or fills! <3
> 
> This is a fic with a consensual role-playing game that has been established beforehand.

The first thing Aziraphale notices when he wakes is the aching stretch and fullness, something slick, hot, and hard inside him. His eyes snap open and he grunts, tries to move, but there is something keeping him in place on his side. He reaches back and is shocked to feel warm skin, not his own, under his fingertips. The muscles bunch and shift and the thing inside him moves. Strong arms wrap around him, holding him still. 

“Morning, angel,” says a familiar voice in his ear. 

“C-Crowley,” Aziraphale gasps. He turns his head and the demon’s face is there, mere inches from his own. Aziraphale’s arse is stuffed full of Crowley’s cock. “What in the world are you doing?” 

“I thought you’d never wake up,” Crowley grunts, his hips snaking as he slowly withdraws and then pushes back inside. His cock is huge; it takes forever for him to bottom out and start to grind. In spite of himself, Aziraphale feels his body respond as it rubs against a particular spot inside him. 

“Please, you can’t. You can’t.” He tries to twist away, but Crowley’s arms tighten. 

“I can, and I will. You want it, angel. Don’t try to deny it. I can feel you getting hard for me.” Crowley’s hands are possessive, moving all over Aziraphale’s body. One of them grips his cock and gives it a sharp tug, punctuated by a nip to Aziraphale’s ear. “You’ve kept me waiting too long.” 

“You don’t know what you’re saying. Crowley, this is madness. Please.” Aziraphale is shaking, his whole body on fire. Crowley is stroking him, making him want it, making him take it, and God help him, he . . . he likes it. “Please, please.’ He’s no longer sure what he’s asking for. 

“I like to hear you beg. You were made for my cock.” Crowley licks along the seam of Aziraphale’s mouth with his infernal tongue. “Open up for me. Let me taste you while I screw your tight little arse.” 

He complies, opening his mouth and letting Crowley inside. He is stuffed full, tongue in his mouth and prick in his arse, and then Crowley’s fingers are skating lower, to Aziraphale’s stretched rim. He is so slick and aching there, it almost feels like Crowley has given him a cunt. When Crowley slides one of his long, nimble fingers in alongside his cock, Aziraphale cries out. 

“Mmm, you like that, don’t you, angel. I always knew you’d be a slut for it if I could just get you on your back, and here you are, taking it so well for me. Taking my cock so deep. You want me to fill you up? Make you all messy?” HIs wicked finger stretches and pets Aziraphale’s used hole. 

“No. No, please.” The plea sounds pitiful even to Aziraphale’s own ears, a last attempt to maintain a grip on sanity. 

“Well, that’s too bad. I’m getting close. I’m going to come deep in your belly, get you all ripe with my seed.” One of his hands squeezes and kneads Aziraphale from the outside; he is pushing his cock in faster now, pelvis slapping against Aziraphale’s skin. “I can feel myself in you, getting ready. Are you ready too?” 

“No. I d-d-don’t want this.” 

“You doooo.” 

Aziraphale’s eyes roll back in his head. He is only sensation, no longer an angel, just a body being fucked and stretched and filled. Gross matter, fit only for a demon to slake his lust. Crowley moans and grunts in his ear. “You feel ssssso good. I want to feel you come on my cock, while I’m having you.” 

The rising wave of orgasm crashes through his body. He spurts and spurts onto Crowley’s fingers, wetting the sheets and filling the room with the smell of his spend. The sheets are bunched down below their waists, and Aziraphale can do nothing but writhe. Crowley is an animal at his back, a snake, a demon, his cock growing impossibly bigger, stretching Aziraphale to the limit. 

“Oh fuck, angel, I love you,” Crowley moans, biting down on Aziraphale’s throat hard enough to leave a mark. Aziraphale can feel him pulsing inside, his cock emptying and making it all so very slick, and God help him, it feels like a blessing. 

“Was that too much? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Crowley asks later, once they’ve managed to disentangle themselves and clean up the mess; the bed is an absolute wreck. There’s a little frown between his eyes. Aziraphale pets the lines away.

“No, my dear, not at all. You were absolutely wonderful. It’s just what I wanted.” 

“The . . . er, dirty talk, you liked that?” 

Aziraphale shivers deliciously, remembering how utterly filthy Crowley had been. “Oh, so much darling, you can’t even imagine.” 

“Okay.” 

“What about you? Did you . . . like it?” 

“Are you kidding?” Crowley smirks over at him, his long hair messy on the pillow. His eyes, which before had been pure snake, have faded again to yellow irises. He is so utterly beautiful and so completely unaware of it, Aziraphale’s chest aches. “I think it was one of the best ideas you’ve ever had. Of course, that’s not saying much.” 

Aziraphale hits Crowley in the face with a pillow, laughing. “You utter cad.” 

“Hey, I’m not the one proposing dirty role-plays, angel.” Crowley gives his shoulder a little nip. “But I’m not suggesting you stop any time soon. It definitely makes things interesting.” 

“I don’t intend to,” Aziraphale says. “Do you think we could do that particular one again?” Of course, planning it for the first go-round made sense. Crowley didn’t want to take any chances. Next time, he wants Crowley to choose the morning at random, so he is truly surprised.

“I think that could be arranged.” Crowley’s pupils narrow to slits. 

Before they tread down that path much further, Aziraphale’s stomach rumbles, and he sits up in bed. “Now, what shall we have for breakfast? Crepes? Or some of that avocado toast the youth like so much?” 

“Whatever you like,” says Crowley. “I live to serve.” 

Aziraphale leans over to kiss him, their mouths meeting softly. Crowley’s hands cup his face, and Aziraphale can’t help feeling utterly besotted and incredibly grateful they have each other after all this time. “And you do it _so_ well.”


End file.
